The Path Less Travelled
by MoblinFodder
Summary: Her life has been a series of crossroads. With humble beginnings as a travelling cleric, Shayla knows that life is more about the journey than the destination. As each new fork in the road seems to bring her further down the path of no return, this cleric of Fharlanghn must find her way in the world. - A series of snippets showing how wildly one person's life can change with time.


Shayla, finally free of her cumbersome armour for the night, straightened out her robes and settled by the gently glowing embers of the campfire. Her dark hair shimmered in the firelight when she leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees in true storyteller's fashion. Her smile was just visible from beneath the glossy black curtain of her hair. She eyed each of her fellow travellers in turn, dear friends all, and then spoke. She used a more formal tone, better suited to the spinning of tales than her usual bubbly chatter.

"You know, of course, that I am driven by wanderlust across the vastness of our fair land. Fharlanghn guides my feet across the beaten path and beyond. The singing of sore muscles after a long trek are my hymns, and the footprints I leave in the dust are my prayers."

She paused dramatically, letting her words sink in with the precise timing and effect of any bard.

"Naturally, I have travelled near and far, encountered many crossroads. To one of my particular vocation, it is no small affair to encounter a fork in the road. If travelling as a pair, it goes unsaid that the time has come to part ways and to leave neither road unexplored. If travelling alone, however, it could mean a great many things. It represents an important time in one's life. A time of change perhaps, or renewal."

She cleared her throat and gazed into the fire. A smile still played about her lips and the dancing shadows of the flickering flames kissed her fair skin, lending her a dramatic and enticing new persona. This grinning narrator was no longer their everyday Shayla but a mysterious storyteller.

"It was at one such fork in the road where my decision changed the course of my life. I had chosen to take the path less travelled, although it was by no means the easiest. The route was overgrown and wild, and it led me deeper and deeper into the forest. The foliage was dense, the leaves of the trees above me intertwined so close to one another that there seemed to be no sky at all. There was only the thick arbour above me. It wasn't long before what little pale green light had managed to filter between the leaves had vanished. I was left travelling in darkness, and it wasn't long before I realized that at some point, my road had become nothing more than a ghost path. I was familiar with the phenomenon. When in the forest, it is quite easy for your mind to trick you into believing you are following paths between the trees, when in reality there is no such thing, only your mind playing tricks on you. In any case, I was well and truly lost. But was I concerned? Not unduly. Perhaps I was being tested, but I knew I would always have the guidance of my god. So I pressed onward."

She absently removed her hat and clutched it in one hand, running the fingers of her other hand thoughtfully along the ribs of the fluffy golden feather of the magical accessory.

"After a while, the difficult terrain began to subside and the trees began to thin. The occasional weak patch of light fell through the leaves and as I continued on my way the light steadily grew stronger. The dark woods became twilit forests and, eventually, a bright, sunny field interspersed with trees. Finally, I was out of the woods! A short distance away I could see a small village. I was grateful for the prospect of a place to rest and get my bearings. However, upon entering the village, I found that it was poverty-stricken and falling apart. The children skittered along the street's shadows, and I could see they had thin faces and nimble fingers. The people seemed wary of me and it was apparent they didn't get travellers often. Or trade. The people were wary even of each other, and with a bit of digging I found out that it was a den of mistrust and thievery.

"Entering the dilapidated patch of earth that served as a town square, I noticed some kind of uproar. A crowd had gathered around the dusty fountain and I could hear angry shouts, and the occasional thud of a punch landing on flesh. It seemed that two of the town's most prominent inhabitants had been locked in a rivalry for quite some time, and things had finally come to a head. After gathering what information I could, I learned that the men were the heads of two warring factions of petty thieves that had been running the village. From what I could tell they had been stealing from each other pointlessly in desperate bids to support their own people. The simple farmers of the village were frightened for their own stock and were forced to spend what little valuables they had to hire substandard guards instead of farm hands and seed. It was a terrible situation.

"Deciding that this must have been why Fharlanghn brought me here, I knew I had to think of some way to make these people work together productively. Stepping back, I concentrated and prayed for my god to give me the power of light. I could feel it radiating from my body and I put a regal expression on my face. I shouldered my way through the crowd and approached the brawlers, pulling them apart. They were more surprised into submission more than anything, and their shocked faces were illuminated by my radiance. I couldn't help but laugh. 'Stop this nonsensical feuding,' I told them, 'You people won't gain anything unless you can work together.'

"I could see the scorn beginning to cross their expressions. Who was I, an outsider, to tell them how to run their town? I channelled the light from my body into my hands and touched their foreheads in a display of divinity. 'I can see you are strong men, and want only to scrounge the best living that you can for those under your care. I have travelled long and far, and have learned much of such situations. Come, let us procure a room at the tavern and speak of these matters privately.'"

She paused in the telling of her story, momentarily breaking her formal role as story-teller in order to laugh and give her companions each a grin.

"They thought I was god-touched! Which, well, I am. But no more than the next cleric. Maybe they thought I was an angel. It's amazing the things people will do if you give them some of the good ole divinity. Hehe. Anyway…"

She shrugged her shoulders and went on to deliver the denouement of her tale.

"And there isn't much more to say. I'm a cleric of Fharlanghn-I know much of trade and merchantry, having travelled with my fair share of caravans in the past. I convinced the gentlemen to stop running their town into the ground with their petty thieving operations. I gave them the names of some merchants I knew, and aided them in setting up trade routes between their town and others nearby. It wasn't easy, to be honest, because there are few caravans willing to take the effort of traversing the rough terrain surrounding that village, but I called in a few favours of my own."

She finished with a flourish of her hat and a smug grin, standing up and giving her audience a bow.

"And the last I visited, they were flourishing! I've become somewhat of a celebrity to them, I think, and they bestowed upon me my ridiculous title, but I tolerate it. It's worth the satisfaction of knowing I have made such a difference in the lives of so many people."

Her story told, she resumed her seat at the campfire, falling silent and fading into the background as she allowed her friends to take the spotlight. A vain smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She was happy to sit back on the sidelines and chuckle over her ridiculous lie. Of course they believed every word.


End file.
